Two of a Kind
by bookwormgirlLH
Summary: An accident at Christmas leaves George without his twin brother. How will George cope? Set in book one. Character death, George whump. Trigger warnings for death and suicidal thoughts. Please review!
1. Chapter 1: Accident

In this story, George and Fred are 13, Ron is eleven, Ginny is ten, Percy is 15, Charlie is 19 and Bill is 21.

Warning: Character death and suicidal thoughts.

Please leave a review, I would be so happy if you did!

* * *

It was six in the morning, and a dull, grey light was just beginning to illuminate the Burrow's many rooms. Ron Weasley, who had just returned from his first term at Hogwarts, rolled over to shield his face from the light. But then he remembered what day it was, and shot out of bed.

Creeping along the landing, Ron went over to ten-year old Ginny's room, and whispered, "Ginny, wake up, its Christmas!". He watched his little sister open her eyes and a great big grin spread across her face. She ran over to Ron and took his hand,

"Happy Christmas Ron." She smiled.

The pair off red heads padded down to the next floor, where Fred and George shared one room, and Percy, who was sharing with Bill whilst he was there for Christmas, had the other. Knowing not to try to wake up Percy, who was really grumpy in the mornings, Ron and Ginny burst into the twins' room.

They found that Fred and George were already awake, and stuffing their faces with chocolate. "Merry Christmas!" George whispered, voce muffled as his mouth was full.

"Look what Father Christmas left us." Fred added, gesturing to a large pile of Honeydukes sweets.

"Well, we got it ourselves." George admitted.

"Last time we went to Hogsmead." Fred explained.

"Want some?" They asked in unison. Ron took a chocolate frog, but Ginny stopped.

"You'll fill yourselves up before breakfast." She said indignantly, "And Mum and Dad have spent a fortune on food."

"Good point." The twins replied. "We'll save it for later."

"Should we go and wake up Mum and Dad?" Ron suggested, putting the chocolate frog back on the bed. The youngest four Weasleys always woke their parents up by jumping on their bed early in the morning: it had become a Christmas tradition.

The twins grinned mischievously, and clamoured out of their identical beds, following Ron and Ginny. The hallway was void of windows and still dark, and Ginny screamed as Fred trod on her foot, making the other shriek with laughter. Percy's room was closest to the stairs, and he opened his door with a shout of, "Shut up, it's only ten past six!" His door swung towards the others with a suprising force, and they had to jump back to avoid it.

But Fred wasn't quick enough.

The door slammed into him,

he stumbled backwards,

George tried to grab his arm, but it was too late.

Fred tumbled down the stairs,

There was a high-pitched scream,

and then he hit the landing below with a sickening crunch.

* * *

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2: Hospital

"Fred!" George screamed, thundering down the stairs after his unconscious brother. Ginny, Ron, Percy and Bill hurtled after him, Ginny in tears, and Percy looking like he was going to be sick.

"What the hell was that?" Mrs Weasley shouted, hurrying out of her room. She stopped dead when she saw Fred lying unconscious on the floor, blood trickling from his forehead, his whole body crooked, George holding his broken fingers like he couldn't let go. "ARTHUR!" She cried, rushing to crouch beside her son, taking his other hand, trembling.

Mr Weasley stumbled into the crowded hallway, and saw Fred himself. He leaned back into the wall to steady himself; Bill took his wobbly dad's arm to stop him collapsing. "What happened?" He croaked, voice wavering.

"Fred fell down the stairs!" George sobbed, tears streaming down his pale face.

Percy, paler than ever, stepped forwards, looking incredibly guilty, "I opened my door too fast and Fred was hit by it, he lost his balance and fell." He said truthfully.

"We've got to get him to St Mungo's, Molly." Mr Weasley said, his voice barely audible. "I'll apparate, it'll be fastest."

Mrs Weasley nodded, reluctantly letting go of Fred. "Let go of your brother, George." She told George, but he shook his head firmly.

"I can't take you George, you've never apparated before and it will make you ill." Mr Weasley tried to reason with him, but George wouldn't let go.

"Please let me come, Dad, I need to be with him." George begged.

"No George - let go!" Mr Weasley snapped, and George pulled away, looking hurt. But his pain soon turned to anger as George saw Bill take hold of Mr Weasley's arm, preparing to apparate.

"That's not fair, why does Bill get to go?" He cried indignantly.

"He's going to help me carry Fred." Mr Weasley explained, "We'll meet you at the hospital, okay?"

Mrs Weasley nodded, and Bill, Fred and Mr Weasley suddenly disappeared with a loud crack.

Mrs Weasley looked up, realising she had been ignoring three of her children, and held her rms out; Ginny and Ron hugged her tightly, knowing that they were comforting her a lot more than she was them, and even Percy rubbed her back as she howled.

"Are you alright, George?" Percy asked, looking concerned.

George, whose tears were still flowing down his face, screamed at him, "Of course I'm not alright! Fred might have died and it was ALL YOUR FAULT!" George ran back up the stairs and slammed into his room, throwing himself onto his bed, sobbing until he felt sick. He had no idea how long he was there, sobbing alone in his room, until there was a knock on the door.

"Piss off, Percy!" He called, voice high-pitched with emotion, but it was his mother who opened the door.

"George, dear, we're going to St Mungo's, would you like to come?" She asked nervously, expecting another outburst. But George simply stood up, legs wobbling, and hugged his mother as hard as he could. "He'll be alright, dear, the healers at St Mungo's are the best in the world." She tried to sound firm, but her voice, too, was shaky with tears.

"I'm so scared, Mum." George sobbed, and she stroked his ginger hair soothingly.

"I know, dear, I am too." The pair of them walked down to the kitchen, hand in hand, where Ron was hugging Ginny, and Percy was throwing powder into the fire, which turned it bright green.

Percy went first, grabbing a handful of floo powder and shouting, "St Mungo's!", followed by Ron and Ginny, who could barely speak she was crying so much. George stepped forwards, and all too soon found himself spinning uncontrollably, nausea flooding through his body, before collapsing onto the hard floor of the hospital reception. He began to retch, and Percy only got a bowl under his chin in the nick of time before George threw up all of the chocolate he had eaten with Fred only an hour ago, the memory making him cry harder.

When Mrs Weasley arrived, she took over from Percy, leading her still vomiting son towards the desk, the other following close behind. The witch behind the desk told her where Fred had been taken, and they set off, the feeling of dread in George's empty stomach getting stronger with every step. By the time they reached Fred's ward, George didn't want to go in, terrified of what he was going to see.

As they approached the bed, they caught the end of a conversation betewwn Mr Weasley and a healer:

"I'm sorry, Mr Weasley, he broke his neck - he died instantly, he wouldn't have felt any pain." The healer said, trying to reassure Mr Weasley.

They heard a howl of agony: Mr Weasley was crying. His wife hurried towards the bed, where Mr Weasley had his head on Fred's chest, crying his eyes out.

"Is he really dead?" Mrs Weasley asked.

The healer nodded, and Mrs Weasley barely had time to scream before she fainted. Bill caught her, lowering his mother to the ground, as Ron, Ginny and Percy crowded around the bed, all trying to hug Fred's body in fear that he was going to be taken away from them.

George, still holding the bowl, turned towards the healer, his voice eerily calm, "He can't be dead."

"I'm afraid so, I am very sorry." George cut the healer off, grabbing the lapels of his jacket threateningly.

"HE CAN'T BE DEAD!" George screamed, and Bill pulled him away from the terrified healer. "He can't be! He can't..." His voice tailed off, and he fell into Bill's arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Bill patted his back, letting the thirteen year old collapse onto the en of the bed, where George was horrified to see a sheet had been pulled up over Fred's head.

George pulled the sheet back, revealing Fred's deathly pale face, and suddenly punched his dead brother in the face. "Stop it Fred, wake up!" He shouted, screaming as loud as he could.

No one could stop George's agonised howls; he screamed for his brother to wake up again and again, hitting out at his body until Mr Weasley wrestled him to the floor.

"George!" He sobbed, pinning the screaming teen to the ground as he rocked George from side to side,unable to calm him down. The healer returned with a bottle, which he forced into George's open mouth, the liquid pouring down his throat.

George felt drowsy, his vision blurred, and he only stopped crying for Fred to still be alive when he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep in his father's trembling arms, but his last conscious thought was that he would never be the same person again without his twin...


	3. Chapter 3: Comforting

Charlie Weasley apparated into the kitchen with a crack. He stared around, struggling to see in the dark, and realising that the room was deserted, crossed the hallway, opening the living room door. He saw his mother sobbing into his father's chest, and Bill hunched up on the armchair.

"Charlie." Bill cried, pulling his younger brother into a hug.

"I came as soon as I could." Charlie explained, not understanding why everyone was so upset. "What happened?" He asked innocently, "Where are the others?"

Mr Weasley, fighting back his tears, looked up as his second eldest son, "Ron, Ginny, George and Percy are in bed." His voice wavered slightly.

"And Fred?" Charlie whispered, hating seeing his father so close to losing control. He heard Mrs Weasley whimper at the sound of Fred's name.

Mr Weasley tried to speak, but all that came out was a squeak, so Bill was left to break the news.

"Fred's dead." Bill whispered.

"What?" Charlie felt like he'd been hit in the stomach.

Bill nodded slowly, swallowing hard, "He fell down the stairs."

Charlie said nothing, but a tear slid down his cheek. Mrs Weasley lifted her head and saw Charlie's face.

"Charlie." She whispered, holding her arms wide, and Charlie let her pull him into a hug. He rested his chin on the top of her head, letting more tears spill over, unable to believe what Bill had just told him.

"How's George?" Charlie asked Mr Weasley, who had managed to win the battle of not crying.

Mr Weasley sighed, "He's not good. We had to give him a sleeping draught to stop him screaming at the hospital, and he still hasn't woken up."

"Can I see him?" Charlie was worried about George: he knew how close the twins were - if he was upset, how was George going to cope?

"He's been acting erratically: he screamed at Percy and tried to attack a healer, but he's asleep now, so you should be okay." Mr Weasley smiled weakly at Charlie, who stood up, head spinning, and gently eased Mrs Weasley, who had fallen asleep with exhaustion, back towards his dad.

Charlie padded as quietly as he could up two flights of stairs, before reaching the twins' bedroom, which was now occupied just by George. Reaching out, Charlie touched the wooden sign on the door, which had the names 'Fred and George' written in blue, remembering the day his dad and heavily pregnant mum had fixed the sign to the door, and how happy they had been... He shook his head firmly to stop himself crying, and pushed open the door.

George was flat on his back, still in his pyjamas from that morning, breathing deeply. Moving closer, Charlie saw George's face was very pale, but his closed eyelids were swollen from crying, and he sat down on Fred's bed, having to shove dozens of chocolates, sweets and wrappers out of his way. Charlie spent hours just watching his little brother sleep, and it was only when the clock two flights below chimed midnight that he finally slumped sideways and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

George jerked awake, feeling absolutely shattered despite having slept for hours. He rolled over and saw someone on Fred's bed, and, for a moment, believed that his dead twin was still alive.

"Fred!" He whispered excitedly, running across the room. He caught sight of the clock as he passed it, and saw that it was one o'clock in the morning. That stunned him - he had been at the hospital at eight in the morning the day before... and they had drugged him; he had been asleep for hours. George knew that Fred had died - but he was half asleep and truly believed that his brother was in bed.

George pounced on the lump, which groaned sleepily and sounded suspiciously like-

"Charlie?" He cried in disbelief.

Charlie sat up groggily and saw his little brother crouched on the bed beside him, looking confused.

"What are you doing here, Charlie? Where's Fred?"

Charlie pulled George into a hug, "Fred died, George." He whispered.

George pulled away from his brother, tears pouring down his face, "No...no...he's not," He croaked, whimpering. George stood up too quickly, and stumbled, banging his head into his bedside table. Charlie was beside him in seconds, wrapping his arms around his sobbing brother, rubbing the bruise on George's forehead to ease the pain, rocking him as he murmured soothingly.

It took what seemed like hours, but eventually, George's breathing slowed, his sobs stopped, and his body went limp. Charlie lifted George onto the bed and clamoured in beside him, listening to George's wheezy breaths, and fell asleep himself, with George in his arms, as the early Boxing Day light began to enter the bedroom that once was for two, but now only belonged to one...


	4. Chapter 4: Funeral

A week after the accident, George awoke from a fitful night's sleep to a feeling of dread as he realised what day it was - the funeral.

Mr and Mrs Weasley knew that New Years Day wasn't the best time to have a funeral, but as the children would be going back to school on the second of January, they wanted to have the funeral before they all returned to Hogwarts. No one had touched the Christmas presents under the tree; during a conversation with her children, Mrs Weasley had been stunned by Charlie's proposal to refund the gifts so they could afford the funeral, and she had burst into tears as the other children selflessly agreed it was the right thing to do. So Mr Weasley had taken Ginny, Ron and Mrs Weasley up to Diagon Alley - as they were the only ones who wanted to go - and when they returned, they had black suits for Mr Weasley, George, Ron, Charlie, Percy and Bill, and black dresses for Ginny and Mrs Weasley; an order for a large marquis, and arrangements for the funeral that involved Fred's body and the ceremony, which the parents weren't planning on telling their children too much about. He had pleaded with his parents about it, but to no avail; the funeral was being held on New Years Day in their back garden, and there was nothing George could do to postpone it.

So George lay back in bed, listening to the old house groan in the harsh wind, trying to forget the fact that his dead twin was being buried today. But he couldn't keep up this for long, for five minutes later, Mrs Weasley knocked lightly on the door, before opening it slightly and peering into the room,

"George, dear, are you awake?" She asked softly.

"No." George mumbled idiotically, pulling the duvet up over his head so his mum wouldn't see the evidence that he had spent most of the night in tears.

Mrs Weasley sat down lightly on the edge of George's bed, and patted his arm through the thick duvet, "I know you don't want it, Georgie," she began, using a nickname George hadn't heard since he was five years old, "But we've got to accept what has happened, and a funeral is the perfect way to do it." She tried to sound calm and reasurring, but there was a tone of pain to her voice, which was slightly more high pitched than normal. When George didn't reply, she sighed, "Your suit's in the wardrobe, and the funeral starts at eleven, so can you be ready by then?"

The duvet moved; George was nodding. It was only when Mrs Weasley left the room when George exposed his head again, and allowed the sobs that he had been supressing to escape from his mouth, tears seeping down his cheeks.

* * *

When George entered the kitchen half an hour later, he saw his family, along with Harry and Hermione - _Dad must have picked them up earlier_, he thought. - sat around the table in their black mourning clothes, all of them looking at the food in front of them rather than actually eating. Upon seeing George, Hermione jumped to her feet and pulled the thirteen year old into a tight embrace.

When she released George at last, he saw her eyes, like his, were red from crying, and that Harry was standing behind her,

" I'm so sorry, George." He said, patting the older boy on the arm. George was trying so hard to stay in control in front of Ron's friends, but he lost it as he heard the pity in Harry's voice, and burst into tears.

Mrs Weasley rushed over and hugged George soothingly; Harry and Hermione couldn't watch, and went back over to Ron in fear of crying themselves at George's despair.

Although it was hard, George took a deep, shuddering breath and clamped his lips together. He managed to stop sobbing, but his breathing remained shaky and his eyes were overly bright. Mr Weasley, looking up from the newspaper in front of him, felt a tug of pride, for he knew that even though George was hurting more than any of them, he was trying to stay calm as he knew that Mrs Weasley hated seeing her children upset.

George had forgotten about eating recently, but the smell of fried sausages and bacon made his stomach rumble loudly, a reminder that he hadn't eaten for days. Giving in to his hunger, George speared a sausage on the end of his fork and took a small bite, but as he tried to swallow, his stomach lurched and he hurtled upstairs to the bathroom.

He only just got his head over the toilet bowl in time before vomiting violently, tears seeping down his face, head pounding, blood beating in his ears. When he had finally finished, George flushed the toilet, washed his hands and rinsed his mouth out, trying to get rid of the taste of acid now lingering in his mouth, before opening the door.

Mrs Weasley stood outside the door, and gasped at the sight of George's pale, clammy face. "Have you been sick, dear."

George nodded weakly, and Mrs Weasley pulled him into a bone breaking hug for the second time that morning, wondering, as George was already worrying about the funeral, how he was going to cope when the ceremony started, and when his twin was buried forever.


	5. Chapter 5: Eulogy

George hunched up in his seat, hands over his ears, desperately trying to block out the elderly wizard, who had spent the last five minutes telling them how 'hard working' and 'kind 'Fred had been. The wizard couldn't have been more wrong: Fred was lazy and scived out of school work, and spent most of his time winding other people up.

This wizard didn't understand Fred at all, and George hated him for it. The speech was dull and dreary, completely unlike Fred, who had been lively and had always known how to cheer everyone up - but he wasn't here anymore.

Fidgeting in his seat, George was so relieved when the wizard stopped speaking that he started clapping, before being nudged sharply in the ribs by Charlie,

"What are you doing, George?" He whispered, but George just shrugged, unable to speak, for Fred's coffin had just been brought into the marquis, and a massive lump was blocking his throat. Charlie put his arm around George, and George rested his head on his brother's shoulder.

George watched Mr Weasley unlatch himself from his wife's grasp - Mrs Weasley sat upright for a few seconds, her face sodden with tears, eyes slightly unfocused, before pulling Bill, who was on her other side, into a hug, burying her face in his chest - and step up onto the small stage, shuffling his notes in his hands. He tried to speak, but as he opened his mouth, the only sound he could make was a squeak. George could see that Mr Weasley was using all his willpower to stop himself crying, but if he spoke, he would probably burst into tears. Lower lip trembling, Mr Weasley stared helplessly at his notes, unable to speak, and as George realised that no one was going to step in, that he was going to have to help his dad.

Head pounding with the headache he had had since Fred had died, George stumbled up to his dad, gently pushing him out of the way. Turning to face the audience, George could see his extended family, Harry, Hermione, his friend Lee Jordan and his parents, and friends of his father from the Ministry of Magic staring back at him, and he gulped, before opening his mouth and beginning a speech in a voice that wavered with suppressed emotion:

"Hello, I'm George Weasley, although you probably already know that." He paused as a few people, including Ron, chuckled lightly. "and for the last thirteen years, no one could tell me and my twin Fred apart. Fred loved this, and always wound up our mum by pretending to be me. But a week ago, there was an accident, and now Fred isn't here anymore." George saw a tear trickle down Charlie's cheek, and Hermione hug Ron tightly as he began to sob, "But even though Fred has left us, I know that he will never really leave us, because we all have... memories that we will never forget." George's voice cracked - he saw Bill break down, and Hermione started crying, leaving Harry to comfort her and Ron, as Bill cuddled Ginny, who was sobbing hysterically, futility trying to suppress the sobs by clamping her hands over her mouth - but he knew he had to continue, "I remember when Ginny was a toddler, and she fell over, and Fred started pulling funny faces at her, and she stopped crying. By the time Mum reached her, she was screaming with laughter instead. Whenever there was an argument, Fred and I just had to crack a joke and everything would be resolved. He is...was amazing at Quidditch when we went to Hogwarts, and he made me join the team too when we were old enough - Fred could knock a bludger right across the pitch. And he always stuck up for me - in our last match, Marcus Flint accidentally on purpose broke my nose with his elbow, so Fred sent a bludger at him so hard he fell off his broom. Slytherin got a penalty, but it was worth it." George smiled slightly, a ghost of the mischievous grin he used to wear, before his face fell again, "Fred was the eldest, the dominant twin, and it was like we shared a soul, we were so close. I feel so lost without him, and I'm sure that everyone who knew Fred now feels that a part of them is missing, but I don't know how my life will go without my other half. Dad once said we were two of a kind, and I know exactly what he means." George turned to face the coffin, "I miss you so much, Freddie, and you will be sorely missed. Even though your life was far too short, you made an impression on everyone who knew you, and we will never, ever forget you. Goodbye."

Everyone sat still, silenced by the speech that George had just given, before Percy, who was letting himself cry openly, began to applaud. Soon an uproarious round of applause filled the marquis, and Mr Weasley, who had composed himself, stepped forwards, patting George's shoulder,

"That was amazing, George." He croaked, wiping away the tears that were sliding down the boy's face.

George went back to his seat, feeling pride amidst the sadness in his heart, wondering where those words had come from, but from the look on his father's face, he realised that his eulogy was much better than Mr Weasley's.

The boring wizard, to George's satisfaction, wiped a tear from his eye as he stood back on the stage, before reading a story from the Tales of Beedle the Bard, the Three Brothers. George began to sob as he heard Fred's favourite bedtime story. It wasn't very child friendly, but it was dark and creepy, and whilst it scared George, Fred adored it. He hated hearing the tale, as it reminded him so painfully of his childhood with Fred, but George didn't want it to end, because...

When the old wizard finished reading, he turned to the coffin and levitated it.

"What are you doing?" George asked, jumping to his feet.

"I am taking Mr Weasley's coffin outside to complete the funeral." He replied, completely emotionless, obviously used to dealing with death.

George was trembling, "How do you do that?"

"We set the coffin on fire and cremate-" The wizard was cut off as George grabbed the wand from his hand; the coffin crashed to the ground. George stood infront of the coffin, breathing heavily, not sure what he had just done.

"I'm sorry," George mumbled, as Mr Weasley reached him and hugged him tightly.

Reluctantly, George watched the guests file out into the garden and the wizard shoot sparks out of his wand. As the coffin burned to ash, George suddenly collapsed, curling up on the ground, howling with tears, unable to carry on watching his twin brother disapear before him. But no amount of soothing could calm him down, for it was now that George truly realised that Fred was gone, and that he was never coming back.


End file.
